


What's the Date?

by AllThoseOtherWorlds



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Garak has a deep need to be mysterious, Julian is socially awkward, M/M, Miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 08:37:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2222571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllThoseOtherWorlds/pseuds/AllThoseOtherWorlds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a friend from the Academy visits Julian on the station, she unknowingly sets into motion a chain of thought that culminates in a realization: Julian has a crush on Garak. But now what? How does he ask his friend on a date?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Unexpected Opportunity

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. If I did, this would definitely be canon
> 
> Comments and constructive criticisms are always welcome! Even if you don't finish reading the piece, I'd love to know what you did/didn't like. I don't think there's anything controversial in here, but if I accidentally did something offensive, please let me know.
> 
> Takes place after "Doctor Bashir, I Presume?" but before season seven.

            It was a busy lunch period at the replimat - but it was always a busy lunch period at the replimat, so Julian Bashir paid the conversations of others no mind as he zeroed in on his lunch partner to continue their discussion

            "Is that level of miscommunication common on Cardassia?" he asked. "I think if they'd just _sat down_ and had a decent conversation they could have saved at least half the book!"

            "Really, Doctor?" Garak asked, a gleam of interest in his eyes. "And what do you think could have convinced the Takat family to participate in such a discussion?"

            "Common sense!" Julian exclaimed, assembling in his mind the relevant quotations and page numbers and preparing an argument. Even with knowledge of his genetic enhancements commonplace now, he still held back with most of what he could do unless there was something important at stake. Still, he wasn't going to pretend he couldn't remember parts of the book anymore - not when he knew Garak could probably give as much information about it as Julian himself could.

            He had just opened his mouth to share the arguments already forming in his mind when he saw Garak's attention shift. He followed his lunch partner's gaze and started when he met warm brown eyes and a familar face.

            "Yisma!" he greeted her, turning slightly in his chair to face her more directly. "What are you doing here? I thought you were assigned to the USS Marina."

            "I was," she told him, looking over the busy replimat with interest. "I was just transferred to the USS Integrity a few days ago, and I'll meet the Captain sometime tomorrow." She sighed, face falling for a moment. "I'll be replacing Lakesh."

            "Right," Julian remembered. "There was a skirmish with the Jem'Hadar and they lost several members of the crew." Five people dead and seven injured, if he remembered correctly - which he knew he did. One of the downsides of a perfect memory was that there were some things a person would rather forget. The ship's loss had actually not been as bad as it could have been, but it was still people's lives, and he would never be able to overlook that.

            The three of them were sober for a few moments, but the war had been going on for long enough by now that even if they weren't able to ignore these situations, they'd had plenty of practice with moving past them. It was only a few seconds before she shook herself and turned to Garak, smiling.

            "Oh, I haven't introduced myself, have I?" she asked. "I'm Yisma. I knew Julian back at the Academy."

            "Pleased to meet you," he said, smiling the smile Julian knew he reserved for potential customers. "I'm the tailor on the station - Garak."

            "I'll have to stop by your shop sometime," she said. "I've got a few pairs of pants that need hemming." She glanced at Julian and smirked before turning back to Garak. "Has any of your expertise as a tailor rubbed off on his fashion sense?" she asked lightly. "He could use a little help in that area, if I remember correctly."

            "Your memory is absolutely correct, much to my continuous frustration," Garak replied. He gave Julian a disappointed sigh, although it was somewhat belied by the glint in his eyes as he did so. "Despite my best efforts, he retains an unfortunate tendency to wear exactly what I _wouldn't_ recommend."

            "All to spite you, obviously," Julian joked. It was only partially true - he did enjoy watching Garak rant at him about his poor choices in clothing, but he also genuinely liked the things he wore, and he knew Garak didn't actually mind nearly as much as he said he did. Besides, it just made it even more impressive when he actually wore something of which his friend approved.

            "And why would you want to do that, Doctor?" Garak asked.

            "How else am I to get you to give me advice?" Julian replied. "If I wear the wrong thing I'm guaranteed to get you talking."

            "My Dear Doctor," Garak told him with mock offense, "If you want my advice, all you have to do is ask for it. I would be more than happy to give you any opinions you require on the matter, believe me."

            They smiled at each other for a few moments before Julian heard Yisma clearing her throat and jumped guiltily; he'd forgotten for a few moments that she was even present. He remembered quickly, however, and sent Garak a questioning glance. The Cardassian nodded and Julian gestured to one of the empty chairs at a nearby table.

            "Would you care to join us?"

            "I'd hate to interrupt you two," she said. "Why don't I stop by later, see you in the Infirmary? I have to get a checkup before my new assignment begins anyway."

            "I suppose I've only got a few minutes left of break anyway," Julian said. "I'll expect to see you in the Infirmary, though."

            "Absolutely!" she affirmed. "Nice meeting you, Mister Garak."

            "Likewise," he said, inclining his head. "Feel free to stop into my shop when you get the chance."

            "I will," she promised, turning away. "Bye!"

            "I'll see you later!" Julian called after her. They watched her go for a few moments before settling their attention back on the previous conversation. Julian kept her visit in the back of his mind, but refocused himself quickly on the topic at hand.

            "So, as I was saying," he resumed, "All they needed was a _conversation_..."

***

            Garak hummed softly to himself as he finished the embroidery he was doing on the neckline of a blouse. It had been a challenging piece of work, but worth it in the end, he decided. His client would be pleased.

            His attention snapped back to the present when he heard the door to his shop swing open. He turned towards the sound and looked up to see Yisma, the friendly young woman who was apparently acquainted with the Doctor. He nodded at her and she returned the gesture before heading to one of the racks of dresses to look through.

            Garak sighed internally. Doctor Bashir. What to do about him? He was a fascinating man - intelligent, kind, far too idealistic for his own good and yet willing to confront evil rather than ignoring it. He was remarkable. He was also terrible at picking up on certain social cues.

            Garak had been trying to flirt with the Good Doctor ever since he'd seen him in the replimat. At first, he had picked the Doctor primarily because he had seemed the most receptive to Garak's advice. The naivete and excitement evident in his features had made him an obvious mark.

            As their friendship developed, however, Garak continued the flirting (Although the Doctor still seemed oblivious. That man - really!) He didn't need to do it, but he found himself wanting to. Layers of complexity revealed themselves under the surface and drew him in. First, there was the intelligence apparent in their literary discussions at lunch, followed by the skill with which he treated his patients and the lengths to which he was willing to go to protect the people for whom he cared.

            His ideals were anything but Cardassian, but there was something in him which set him apart from other Humans, and it wasn't long before Garak knew he was done for.

            But Garak was a Cardassian, and there were some things that Cardassians just _did not do_. Openly - explicitly! - asking someone to date you was one of those things.

            So he was left with flirting that always seemed to go over the Doctor's head, and daydreaming that would probably get him into trouble one day.

            And, perhaps, something else.

            He returned his attention to Yisma as she finished browsing around and approached him at the counter.

            "Did you find what you were looking for?" he asked.

            "Yes, actually," she said. "But I do have some stuff that needs to be hemmed. Could you help me?"

            "I'm a shopkeeper," he told her. "It is you who is helping me."

***

            "There," Julian said, pulling the hypospray away from his patient's arm. "Just take it easy for a few days and you should be good as new."

            "Thanks, Doctor," the woman said, standing up and heading to the door. "I'll do that."

            He watched her go, and was just about to turn back around and put away the hypospray when a familiar figure came through the doors. "Yisma!" he greeted her. "I hope you're well."

            "I'll let you be the judge of that," she smiled at him and walked over. "I'm just here for the mandatory pre-assignment checkup I mentioned." She paused. "And for some conversation."

            "I'm sure I can provide both," he told her, putting away the hypospray and grabbing a PADD. "How have the past few years been?" he asked. "Are you still working in Xenobiology?"

            Yisma's grandmother on her father's side had been Betazoid, and although it wasn't enough blood for Yisma to have any empathy or telepathy, it had influenced her decision to go into Xenobiology as a field.

            "Of course I am," she answered. "I'm responsible for general science advice too, of course, but my research is still focused on Xenobiology, even with the war on."

            Julian nodded. There were, he supposed, plenty of things for someone like her to research during this particular war, considering the unusual nature of the founders, the cloning of the Jem'Hadar, and Ketrecel White's role in that dynamic.

            "Well," he said, motioning her over to one of the biobeds. "As you can see, I'm still a doctor." _Might as well give her an opening_ , he thought. _It's not like it isn't bound to come up_.

            "Yes," she said, looking at him seriously. "And a good one, from what I've heard." She smiled sympathetically. "I'm glad you've been allowed to stay in Starfleet, Julian."

            "Thanks," he said, trying to hide the pang of relief that had blossomed inside of him. It was one thing to know his friends here on the station had accepted him, but he was much less confident about the response from people who'd known him when he was younger.

            "I have to say, though," she continued, unaware of his internal monologue, "I never saw it coming. I mean, we learn all these terrifying things about the Eugenics wars, and the later encounters with Khan, but I remember the first time I met you." She giggled, and he smiled too at the memory. "You were trying so hard to impress me that I thought you were going to simultaneously burst and trip over yourself." She eyed him warily, but he thought he caught a glimpse of humour in her eyes. "So either you're less intimidating than I've been led to believe you ought to be, or you're a much better actor than I ever gave you credit for."

            "Let's just say that my social skills were _not_ enhanced," he told her, trying to figure out how to respond to that sort of statement. Was she accusing him of acting? Was she trying to figure out how much of him was real? He wished he had an answer for her.

            "It looks like Mr. Garak doesn't seem to mind them," she said with a grin.

            "Pardon me?" He blinked at her, startled by the non-sequiter.

            "Well," she said, "You did manage to get him to date you."

            Now he was completely lost. "I did what?" He wasn't dating Garak. Why would she think he was dating Garak?

            "He's your boyfriend, isn't he?" she asked. "I mean, the way you two were talking with each other..." she trailed off. "I just assumed, sorry."

            "No, no, it's okay," he assured her. "But we're not dating, and never have been. We're just friends. We meet for lunch every week, is all."

            She looked like she wanted to press the issue, but she just smiled and asked him about his experiences treating different species on the station. He jumped into answering eagerly, both because he loved talking about his job and because he didn't know what to say about Garak. He managed to push the issue out of his mind for the rest of the conversation, and only let it slip back in while he was trying to read in his quarters that evening.

            Why would she think he was dating Garak? Sure, they chatted a lot and were familiar with each other, but that was all, right? He spoke with the Chief all the time, and nobody would think _they_ were dating. Of course, it wouldn't be that bad to date Garak, really. Garak was interesting, and intelligent, and a great conversationalist. Mysterious, sure, but that only added to the appeal, and Julian had actually learned a surprising amount about him over the years. And, he had to admit, some of their conversations could certainly be construed as flirtatious. But that was all part of the fun, wasn't it?

            He paused, eyes wide, and waited as the pieces slowly clicked together in his brain. He went over the results several times, but slumped in defeat as the answer proved inescapable.

            _I have a crush on Garak._

            _It's okay, Julian,_ he told himself. _You can do this. Just- crap._ He sighed. How did one romantically approach a Cardassian? From what he knew of Cardassian romances, flirting usually looked like arguing... which they did. From what he knew of human romances, flirting was usually coy remarks and subtleties... which they did.

            How could they have been flirting for years without him realizing it? And more importantly, how could he further their relationship now?

            How would he approach this if Garak was someone else? _Well, usually if he was someone else I wouldn't have known him for five years,_ he reflected. He'd probably flirt, but that bit was over now. What came next? Lunch dates. Which they did. Weekly. Maybe something other than lunch? A real date. He had to ask Garak on a real date. His brain, however genetically-enhanced it may have been, was short-circuiting on what a "real date" actually was, but he knew he had to figure it out and use it to talk to Garak.

            He rubbed his eyes and fought back a grin. This had the potential to be a lot of fun, if he could figure out what the hell it was he was supposed to do.


	2. Come to the Holosuite?

            The next day, during his lunch break, Julian found his way over to Garak's shop. Their lunch breaks only coincided a couple of times a week, and this wasn't one of them. He knew Garak would be in his store.

            He was. The tailor looked up when he entered and smiled - first the friendly, superficial smile he always put on for people in his store, and then the more personal one he kept for Julian. "Why, Doctor," he said by way of greeting, "I wasn't expecting you today. No last-minute fashion emergencies, I hope?"

            Julian laughed (And now that he was paying attention he wasn't sure how he could have possibly missed that this was attraction). "No, not at all," he said, walking over to the counter.

            "Don't lie to me, Doctor," Garak told him. "I've seen what you wear off duty. _Orange pants,_ Doctor? Really?" His disapproving gaze lingered on Julian for a moment longer before dissolving back into his usual conversational attentiveness. "Well, if you're not here for a - desperately needed, might I add - style overhaul, what can I do for you?"

            "Actually," Julian said, "I just got a new holoprogram, and I, uh, was wondering if you - if you wanted to try it out with me?"

            He berated himself as the words left his mouth - did they _have_ to be that much of a jumbled mess? Granted, it wasn't his worst attempt at asking someone out (and thank goodness for that) but it certainly could have been much more ... suave. He frowned at himself for a moment before he realized that Garak was talking to him.

            "I would love to accompany you, Doctor. I'm free tomorrow evening, if that works for you. What is the program, if I may ask?"

            "Oh, the program," Julian said as he replayed Garak's words in his head to catch what he'd missed (genetic enhancements had their advantages). "It's a story designed to provide an overview of Earth cultures during the twentieth century through the viewpoint of a time traveller accidentally stranded in that time period. It was recommended to me by someone who'd seen it used in some courses at the Academy, but from what I've heard it's quite entertaining. I thought you might like to see the different clothing styles of the era - the program covers more than just North America, which may interest you because most of what we've discussed has been centred on that particular area. I thought you might find it interesting as a tailor too, of course, since clothing choices differ geographically, although I'm not much of an expert in clothing from that era, or in general, as you pointed out..." he trailed off, realizing abruptly that he was still talking and had no reason to be doing so.

            Garak seemed amused, but not annoyed. "It sounds fascinating, my dear Doctor," he said. "Perhaps I can educate you on sartorial choices as we explore the program. I'm sure the program will give us plenty to discuss about your planet and it's history." He paused. "I close up shop at nineteen-hundred hours tomorrow. Would you care to join me for dinner at nineteen-thirty before starting the program?"

            "Yes, of course," Julian replied. "At the Replimat?"

            "Where else?"

            "Good-" Julian began, before being interrupted by his comm badge. "Oh, sorry Garak," he apologized. "I have to go back to duty now. I'll see you tomorrow."

            "Certainly, Doctor," Garak inclined his head. "Until tomorrow."

            It was only once he had gotten back to the Infirmary and was going over blood test results that Julian realized he hadn't actually specified that their outing was to be a date. Garak probably didn't even know. He should tell him, but how? It was probably too late now. It wasn't like he could just tell him _on_ the date - even he had enough social expertise to realize that _that_ was a bad idea. No, he'd just have to try again some other time.

            The outing would still be fun, though. He enjoyed spending  time with Garak. He couldn't wait to see how Garak reacted to some fashions he remembered vaguely were from the 1960's.

            He really was far gone, wasn't he?

***

            Garak finished the last painstaking stitches on the Bolian Ambassador's new trousers and put them aside, stretching as he stood up. Stitching was usually somewhat therapeutic for him, but this particular garment felt as though it had taken forever. It was funny, how anticipating made everything go so slowly.

 

            He wondered, as he approached the Replimat, if this was supposed to be a date. He usually wouldn't let himself give in to such speculation, but given the circumstances...

 

            _No,_ he decided, _it's not a date._ The Doctor would have made it clearer if it was, and they went to the holosuites and ate together fairly frequently. After all, he hadn't seen Yisma again since she'd visited his shop after that lunch with Bashir. His plan had failed, and things would continue on as they were. _Not such a bad way for them to be, I suppose_ , he mused, _although certainly I would prefer them to be ... different._

 

            He spotted the Doctor sitting at their usual table in the Replimat and broke off his train of thought, not wanting it to show on his face. Instead, he approached the table and sat down with his tray, preparing himself for an evening of entertainment and debate - and nothing more romantic than that.

\--

            He had to admit, it _was_ an interesting holoprogram. "An excellent choice, Doctor," he said as they turned a corner and entered the safety of the building. "And certainly not lacking in action."

            Doctor Bashir grinned at him, and Garak had to fight to keep his own face in a proper semblance of Cardassian subtlety. "Thank you," he said, turning to lock the door behind them. "I think that if they'd used programs like this in my Earth history class I would have enjoyed it more."

            "How do they determine which periods of history to teach you?" Garak inquired. "There's a lot of history to learn, and human memories tend to be less exact than those of Cardassians - excepting you, of course."

            The Doctor nodded. "I don't know, exactly. I think it has to do with the likelyhood of temporal displacement. They focus on the periods of history to which officers end up travelling most often." He frowned. "Of course, my first experience with time travel had to involve one of the periods they only glossed over."

            "And which period was that?" Garak asked. He knew there had been a few instances of time travel involving the senior staff so far, but he hadn't been able to learn much about them. Not without actively searching, anyways, and his curiosity wasn't sufficient to risk Sisko's wrath. The information wasn't important enought to look for.

            "I'm afraid I can't tell you," Bashir said apologetically. "Temporal displacement experiences are classified, although I couldn't tell you why - they've already happened, after all."

            "Perhaps they're afraid people will use the information to develop time travel of their own," Garak suggested. "I, for one, can think of plenty of ways that could go wrong."

            And some it could go right, too, come to think of it. If he had the ability to go back in time, he could probably avoid being exiled in the first place - although now that there were so many years between him and the event, he wasn't sure that he would change it if he could. Even if he had time travel, Cardassia would still have sided with the Dominion, after all, and he would be less able to help them. He wouldn't have met Doctor Bashir, either. Maybe he shouldn't think about alternate timelines too closely.

            He spent the next twenty minutes debating temporal mechanics and policy with the Doctor as they searched for a way to get back to their own time in the holoprogram. By the time they'd saved the future and returned to their own time, it was getting late and although Garak would regret parting from the Doctor, he was looking forward to sleeping.

            "Well, Doctor," he said as they stepped through the holodeck exit, "That was a wonderful adventure. Thank you for inviting me."

            "It was my pleasure," replied Julian (he could call him Julian in the privacy of his own head, couldn't he? It was only in the complex arena of conversation that he had to be subtle and proper). "I'll be sure to let you know if I find any other program you may enjoy."

            "Please do," Garak smiled as they approached a branch in the corridor. "But for now, I'm afraid I must be off. Good night, Doctor."

            "Dare I ask what secret meetings keep you busy at this time of night?" the Doctor teased.

            Garak smirked at him. "Why, Doctor, perish the thought! I merely need to sleep. A good tailor must have his wits about him, after all."

            Julian looked sceptical - just the way Garak liked it - but he accepted the explanation, of course. "Good night, Garak," he said, and his voice held more than a hint of fondness.

            _Well,_ Garak thought as he walked slowly back to his quarters, _it probably wasn't a date. Couldn't be. But it was most definitely a great deal of fun._


	3. Andorian Poetry

             Julian smiled to himself as he stepped out of his quarters and started heading in the direction of the Replimat. He and Garak had decided to get dinner together before the poetry reading, so they were, as usual, eating in the Replimat. They had occasionally considered eating at one of the other places on the station, but they always ended up coming back to the Replimat.

            He was there before Garak, as usual - he suspected that Garak enjoyed arriving after him because it gave him the chance to practice his ability to sneak up on people - and he took the opportunity to consider the evening ahead.

            Was this a date? It could be. Cardassians were very subtle, and he may have missed some social cue that Cardassians used and didn't share with outsiders. But if that were so, wouldn't Garak know Julian wouldn't understand?

            He'd been replaying the conversation in his head, trying to figure out how to tell. There was nothing in the conversation that would imply it was a date, but still...

            _It's probably just wishful thinking_ , he decided. _Garak didn't say - or even imply - anything, so there isn't anything. Get over yourself, Julian._

            "And just what has occupied your attention so completely?" he heard Garak's voice from the other side of the table and looked up with a start to see the Cardassian slipping quietly into the chair with a tray of food. "Are you considering the poem you read?"

            "What?" Julian pulled himself back to the present moment, reminding himself sternly that there was nothing here other than a friendly outing. "Oh, the poem. Yes, it was quite interesting."

            "It was, wasn't it?" Garak smiled at him serenely, apparently still enjoying Julian's earlier confusion. "I particularly liked the description of Rebi's father."

            "Of _course_ you did," Julian teased. "That verse was full of more half-truths and allusions than the rest of the poem put together!"

            "What was your favourite part, Doctor?" Garak asked, arching one browridge.

            Julian thought for a second, going over the poem in his mind. "I rather liked the verse at the end - the one where Isha comes back to life."

            "Yes," Garak mused. "As a doctor, I suppose that would interest you. But don't you find the wording just a little too grating, Doctor?"

            "Grating?" Julian asked. "Not at all. What makes you say that?"

            And then Garak was off, launching into a lecture on the offensively obvious word choice and how it damaged the entire piece. Julian just smiled at him and prepared a counter arguement, although he managed to take a little bit of time to appreciate the way Garak got so enthusiastic about these discussions, and very little else.

***

            The reading itself was very well done, and Julian was fairly certain that Garak was enjoying it. They were seated, along with perhaps twelve other people, in the room reserved for such performances. The room was seldom used, since most entertainment was done in the holosuites, but on occasion someone would want to host an event without paying Quark, and if the event didn't need a holographic setup, this room would do just fine.

            Lieutenant Shey had just finished reading out the third poem, and was abdicating the stage to a young ensign who, despite his age and rank, appeared confident in his performance.

            "Very well done so far," Julian muttered to Garak under his breath, so as not to disturb the other audience members. "I can't say I'd have enjoyed the piece if I read it, but she made it entertaining in her performance."

            "I must agree," Garak said, leaning slightly towards Julian as he replied. "Some types of poems really must be experienced rather than read."

            "Are there any works like that on Cardassia?" Julian asked, curious. He and Garak had debated many different literary works, but very few performance pieces. He wasn't sure if that was because there weren't many performance pieces in general, or if there were many pieces and they simply weren't available in the Federation databases.

            "There are," Garak told him, and he looked like he was going to say more, but then the young ensign began to speak and he quieted.

            Julian turned his attention back to the stage, enjoying both the performance in front of him and the presence of the Cardassian beside him.

***

            "Well, Doctor?" Garak asked as they filed out of the room with the rest of the guests. "What did you think?"

            "It was marvellous," Julian told him honestly. "Thank you, Garak. It was interesting to explore a different culture's writing for once, rather than each other's."

            "My thoughts exactly, Doctor," Garak agreed. "I look forward to further discussing the performances with you over lunch."

            "Yes," Julian said. "I'm glad you invited me. Would you let me know if you learn about any other events like this on the station?"

            "Why of course," Garak inclined his head. "I would be delighted." He smiled at Julian for a moment before speaking again. "But for now, I must take my leave of you."

            "I have to go too," Julian replied. "My shift starts early tomorrow. One of my patients needed a minor surgery and was only available in the early morning."

            "How unfortunate," Garak said. "Do sleep well, Doctor. Good night."

            "Good night," Julian said. He nodded at Garak and waved good-bye before turning in the direction of his own quarters.

            He'd had a wonderful time, really he had. It was something new, and still familiar, and most importantly it was with Garak. And Garak had invited him. He still wasn't sure, even in retrospect, if it was supposed to be a date, however. He didn't think he had it in himself to actually ask _Garak_ , though, so he had two options. One: deal with it himself, and try to drive the circular reasoning and constant wondering out of his head. Two: find someone he could talk to and ask for advice.

            He sighed, and made a note to himself to find Jadzia tomorrow after the surgery.


	4. Actual Communication

            Jadzia had just gotten off-duty early for the day and was enjoying some down-time in Quark's bar (if being in such a busy place could be considered 'down-time') when Julian approached her.

            "Mind if I sit down?" he asked, pulling a chair up next to her at the bar.

            "Not at all," she said, smiling warmly. "What can I do for you this afternoon?"

            It wasn't unheard of for Julian to simply want to spend time with her - they were friends, after all - but there was something in his voice that tipped her off. He sounded almost nervous, as though he was trying to psych himself up for something. Going through so many lifetimes had given Dax the ability to tell when someone wanted to talk.

            "Well," he said, proving her right, "I was hoping to talk to you about something."

            "I'm happy to help," she told him. "What's bothering you?"

            He paused for a moment, gathering himself up before answering. "Uh, how do you know if something is a date?"

            She wasn't sure what she had been expecting from him, but that wasn't it. Julian was usually very straightforward with his romantic interests - she would know - and she was surprised that he was coming to her about this.

            "Well, usually the person gives some sort of sign," she said. "They say it's a date, or they try to act romantic while you're doing ... whatever it is." She sighed. "Julian, why are you asking _me_ this question? Shouldn't you be asking whoever it is that's confused you?" She grinned at him. "And if that person is me, let me assure you that we are not dating."

            He looked surprised for a moment, and then his expression shifted to embarassment. "No, no! I know that!" he floundered for a moment, and Jadzia repressed the urge to giggle. He calmed himself down for a few moments before speaking again. "It's not about you. I just didn't know who else to ask. I, uh," he shifted uncomfortably. "I don't want to seem like a fool by asking him."

            "Well," she told him flatly, "I'm afraid you'll probably have to deal with looking like a fool." He glared at her in response, but she kept talking. "Julian, I can't tell you if whatever you two did was a date. You know that. I'm sorry, but you're just going to have to talk to him."

            "I suppose so," he sighed. "I'm sorry, Jadzia. I should have known you wouldn't be able to tell me."

            "Julian," she said, "I don't know who it was, or what you two did together, and I wouldn't be able to tell you even ifI _did_ know those things. What I can tell you," she told him, looking him in the eyes, "Is that you'll never know unless you just _ask him_." She smiled sympathetically. "If it was a date, I'm sure he won't mind you looking a bit foolish if it gets you two communicating."

            He considered he words for a long moment, looking around the bar as he thought. She remembered his previous relationships as she watched him; this must be pretty serious if he was concerned enough to seek help.

            "You really care about this person, don't you?" she asked. And then, because she was insufferably nosy - a trait shared both by Jadzia and by Dax - she had to add, "Could you tell me who it is? If you don't want to I'd understand, of course."

            "No, no, it's fine." he said. "I'd just appreciate it if you wouldn't tell anyone else."

            "You have my word," she promised solemnly. Nosy she may be, but she could keep a secret if called upon to do so.

            He nodded, accepting her words. He was silent for a moment longer, then spoke under his breath. "It's, uh, Garak," he said, before adding unnecessarily, "The Cardassian."

            "Oh," she said, not nearly as surprised as she supposed she ought to have been. "I think I should have seen that coming."

            "I probably should have too," he said ruefully. "Took me long enough to realize I was interested, but now I can't tell if he's interested too or if I'm just imagining it because I want him to be." He frowned. "And I don't want to ruin our friendship if I'm wrong."

            She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. "Julian, I don't know Garak as well as you do. _Nobody on this station_ knows Garak as well as you do. I can't tell you what will happen if you ask him. What I can tell you is that if you never ask, you'll have no chance at all." She smiled. "You two seem to be pretty close. Even if you're wrong, I doubt this will end your friendship if you're careful."

            He nodded, and although he still looked unconvinced there was a little more hope in his eyes.

            "Thanks, Jadzia. I'm glad I can talk to you about things like this."

            "No problem," she said. "Just let me know how it turns out, okay?"

            "I will," He promised. "I guess I'd better go talk to Garak before I lose my nerve." He got down from his stool and turned towards the promenade. "Thanks," he repeated, starting for the door

            "Good luck!" she called after him, and he smiled at her over his shoulder before leaving the bar.

***

            Julian approached Garak's shop with some trepidation, but he also felt a surprising amount of excitement. If he could just have this conversation, he'd be closer to knowing where he stood with the other man. He was afraid of rejection, but the prospect of success was alluring.

            Garak was alone in his shop, much to Julian's relief. He wasn't sure he'd have been able to work up the nerve to do this again later if Garak had been preoccupied with customers. But Garak was alone, sitting behind the counter with a length of cloth and a cutting tool.

            "Doctor!" he called as Julian entered. "How nice of you to drop in today. Do you require any new clothes?"

            "No, not really," Julian said. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something."

            "Wrong answer, Doctor," Garak said, standing and coming over to meet Julian. "You're welcome to simply talk, of course, but from what I've seen of your off-duty wardrobe, you _definitely_ need new clothes."

            "Yes, I keep hearing that," Julian told him, relaxing a little at the familar banter.

            "Perhaps I can find something that will suit you," the tailor said, although he made no move to look through the clothing. "What is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

            "Well, um," Julian said. _Excellent start,_ he thought to himself sarcastically. _He'll be sure to fall for you if you keep that up._ "I was, ah, wondering if..." he glanced away, but pulled his gaze back to meet Garak's eyes when he realized he was doing it. "If our last outing was intended as a date?"

            The words came out in a quick jumble, but he knew Garak had understood from the way his expression became suddenly careful. Julian still couldn't tell if that was a good sign or a bad one.

            It was several moments before the Cardassian spoke. "Did you want it to be?" he asked, finally.

            "Yes?" Julian said, cursing himself when it came out more as a question than a statement. "Yes." he clarified.

            "In that case," Garak announced, "Yes. It was most certainly intended as a date." The Cardassian paused again, and then asked, "Was the outing you initiated also intended to be a date?"

            "Yes, it was," Julian admitted. "Although I suppose I botched the bit where I asked you out."

            "I suppose we'll simply have to try again, Doctor," Garak said, eyes sparkling, and Julian knew it was overwrought and cliche to think things like that about a person, but it was _true_.

            "I think that's an excellent idea," he agreed. "Let's make it an official date this time, shall we?"

            "Let's," Garak replied. "Should we meet for dinner? That seems like the sort of thing humans do for dates, although I never have gotten the knack of telling."

            "It is," he assured him. "My quarters? We could eat the day after tomorrow, at 1900 hours, if that works for you."

            "It does, Doctor," Garak said. "It does."

            "Let's make it official, then," Julian smiled. "Garak, will you go on a date with me?"

            "Absolutely, my Dear Doctor," Garak said, returning the smile. "Absolutely. And Doctor?"

            "Yes?"

            "What was it that prompted you to ask me on a date?"

            "Actually," Julian said, blushing a little, "It was Yisma, my friend from the Academy. She thought we were dating, and it got me thinking, I suppose."

            "Really?" Garak asked, and Julian thought he caught a flash of something mischeivous and pleased in that smile. "You must thank her for me sometime."

            "I will," Julian assured him. "Although I'm beginning to suspect that you had something to do with it too."

            "Doctor!" Garak exclaimed. "I assure you that this turn of events was just as surprising to you as it was to me."

            Julian just grinned at him. He still thought Garak was involved, but maybe he wasn't lying about being surprised. After all, they seemed to have a knack for making things like this more complicated than Garak had probably predicted.

            At least it kept things interesting.


End file.
